


Maybe in Another Life

by BombshellBlondie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Claurenz Week (Fire Emblem), Crimson Flower Route, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22389640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BombshellBlondie/pseuds/BombshellBlondie
Summary: With the Empire on their doorstep, Claude makes one last plea.For Claurenz Week 2020 Day 5: Distrust/Enemies/Separation
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Kudos: 57
Collections: Claurenz Week: Winter 2020





	Maybe in Another Life

**Author's Note:**

> I almost forgot to post this! Wouldn't that have been a shame.  
> I always thought it was depressing that Lorenz only sides with the Alliance and his classmates in VW, even if you don't recruit him in the other routes.

“ _I’ll be in the garden at sunset,_ ” the note read. “ _Please_ _don’t send your guards after me. -C_ _”_

A tempting thought, had it been a simpler time. 

The garden was bathed in orange when Lorenz arrived. It was a familiar scene, the sun low on the horizon, it’s fading light dusting the petals of each rose with its warmth. Lorenz’s shadow stretched behind him through his “regular” evening stroll, as if it were tying him to the manor behind him even as he walked towards the sun. 

Claude was there, as he said he’d be. It was amazing how at-home he looked, perched in a chair at the garden table, wearing the Duke’s cape and crest, relaxed with one leg loosely crossed over the other. As if he’d been invited for tea. As if he weren’t currently in the process of trespassing. 

_Maybe in another life._

“You came,” he said as Lorenz approached, disbelief evident in his voice. “Here I was thinking I’d be chased off the property by dogs.” 

“That option is not entirely off the table,” Lorenz said, ignoring the second chair sitting empty next to him. “What are you doing here, Claude.” 

Claude winced. An accusation, not a question. He got right to the point, “They’ll be on our doorstep by the end of the week.” 

“I am aware,” Lorenz said. Cold. Indifferent. 

“It’s not too late to change sides.” 

Lorenz could not meet his eyes. He turned to look southward, as if he were already watching the Imperial Army approach over the horizon. “Yes,” he said, “it is.” 

“Lorenz,” Claude pleaded now, voice thin, “we need you.” 

“It’s not a choice I am at liberty to make, and even if it were, it would be a foolish one,” said Lorenz. 

Claude inhaled sharply and massaged the bridge of his nose with gloved fingers, “Ignatz is already at Myrddin with Judith. Leonie is on her way to provide backup, but we need _more_.” 

“I fail to see how that is my problem.” 

“You--!” Claude nearly jumped out of his chair before regaining his composure, a desperate man behind a facade. “Don’t you even feel the _least_ amount of obligation to help? They’re our _friends_ —” 

“As are several of the people marching under the Imperial flag,” Lorenz countered. 

Ferdinand’s face flashed through his mind, bright and sunny, laughing at something Lorenz had said over tea. He’d come to see him just once since the war began, to take his and his father’s pledges of allegiance to Edelgard. His hair had been longer, eyes older. Lorenz was moved by Edelgard’s goals, and his father by the size of her army and its position relative to his territory. But there was one thing Lorenz had struggled to understand. 

_“Why did you remain by her side? After what_ _she did to your father?” he’d asked._

_Ferdinand sipped his tea, “_ _What terrible rumors have you been hearing, my friend? My father is still very much alive_ _and well.”_

_“Yes, but_ _stripped of his title_ _and power_ _,” Lorenz pressed. “_ _I would have expected a nobleman such as yourself to take more offense to that.”_

_When Ferdinand laughed now, it was_ _weaker_ _, weighted_ _. “_ _Believe me, I was at first,” he said. “But_ _Edelgard_ _wishes_ _to create a world where men_ _who are unworthy of such responsibilities do not come into possession of them simply by being born._ _I_ _…_ _realize now_ _,_ _that my father may have been such a man._ _And…_ _”_

_Lorenz did not press the silence_ _that hung off the end of Ferdinand’s sentence_ _._ _He watched his friend stare into his teacup, as if_ _it were whispering secrets to him, brows furrowed._

_“Perhaps it is selfish of me to say it, but I_ _did not wish t_ _o find my self_ _in a position where I might have to_ _take the life of_ _a dear friend_ _,” he confessed. “That is why I am so relieved_ _to be here with you now,_ _accepting your_ _support._ _I would not want to_ _be on the opposite side of the battlefield from you, Lorenz.”_

It was admirable, noble, and anything but selfish—what Ferdinand was doing. Fighting for his friends, for justice, even if it might upset his own carefully constructed place in society. And Lorenz couldn’t help but notice that, by joining him, he was doing the exact opposite. 

“Without your help, it’s going to be a slaughter,” Claude said, his voice taking on an unfamiliarly dark tone. “We’re not kids anymore; this isn’t a game or a mock battle. They’re going to _die_ , Lorenz.” 

“Even _with_ my help it would be a slaughter,” said Lorenz. “They have a massive advantage; more troops, those dark mages, not to mention…” 

“…Teach.” 

“You _do_ see, then?” he asked . “The odds are on the side of the Empire. To fight them at all is foolish beyond compare. It is _asking_ to be slaughtered.” 

“Oh, I see alright,” Claude said, “I see I was wrong about you. Behind that faux noble mask you wear, you and your father really are what I’d always heard you were: cowards.” 

Lorenz met Claude with a glare, “It is not _cowardly_ to know when to quit before you begin. If you ask me, it is quite a bit _more_ cowardly for a general to send his so-called _friends_ in to fight a battle he knows they cannot win, one he doesn’t even plan on partaking in himself.” 

“And what does that make _you_ ? Besides a doormat for the Empire?” Claude asked, poison dripping from his lips . “ _Oh, Emperor_ _Edelgard_ _, welcome to_ _the Leicester Alliance_ _, please feel free to trample_ _over_ _me and everyone I_ _care for with_ _your_ _blood-soaked boots._ ” 

“Better to live a doormat than to die a _fool_ ,” Lorenz spat. “Do you ever think that perhaps some things aren’t worth fighting to the death over?” 

Claude shot up, slamming his hands on the garden table and knocking his chair over backwards, “Do you ever think that perhaps some things _are_?” 

The clatter of the chair on the landscaping startled the dogs, whose barks carried over the garden wall from the house. Claude stood firm, unwavering, hands braced on the table as he stared Lorenz down. They stand like that for a long moment, tension thick between them, as if daring the other to break his gaze first. 

It is Claude, finally, who breaks. “Fine,” he says, “I can see there’s no changing your mind.” 

He brushed his hands together, as if touching the Gloucester’s garden furniture has caused them to become dirty. Lorenz watched him go, golden cape flowing behind him. He paused just once, just on the edge of the garden in front of a trellis of flowers, and for a moment Lorenz thought he’d try to convince him one last time. But Claude only exhaled a sigh, looked back over his shoulder, and said, 

“Good luck living with yourself, Lorenz. I know I couldn’t.” 

And then he’s gone. 

-

Two months later, it’s over. The Alliance, or rather, what _used_ to be the Alliance, is under Imperial control. For their support, the Gloucester household has been permitted to keep its territory, and to assume control of several others. Ferdinand has been by once more, on their way through to Derdriu, to thank them again for placing their trust in the Empire. Now he is somewhere in Faerghus, the war is on its last legs, and Lorenz is here, picking up its pieces. 

It is then that a package arrives at the manor, addressed to Lorenz. It contains no letter, no return address, only a variety of items—all of them stained or splattered with dried blood. 

A pair of round glasses. 

A geometrical pendant hanging from a thin rope necklace. 

A dark magic tome. 

A pair of hooped earrings. 

All wrapped in a black cape bearing the emblem of the Leicester Alliance. 

Lorenz wraps them back up with shaking hands and tears building in his eyes. _I will not cry_ , he tells himself, _they all made their choice_ _._ _I will not cry for anyone foolish enough to_ _stand in the way of the Imperial Army._

And yet, he does. 


End file.
